Posted by: Alderis
« on: November 11, 2024, 01:09:19 PM »Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I am eager to return to the field for a fresh episode of Big Windup!, as our boys continue preparations for the first round of the summer tournament. Having secured a matchup against last year’s eventual winners, their practice regimen has been appropriately grueling, involving pre-dawn wakeups, drills into the night, and a thoughtful combination of physical and mental conditioning.
Most sports shows offer some manner of engagement with the psychological underpinnings of their leads’ behavior, whether it’s something as simple as “I have to fulfill my father’s dying wish” or a nuanced array of emotional factors. But Big Windup! is somewhat unique in that it treats our base impulses as simply more muscles to be trained, with instincts like “tensing up during key plays” countered through persistent meditation and Pavlovian implanted associations. And all of this training is uniquely appropriate for a game like baseball, with its almost “turn-based” combination of passive stretches and frantic action.
Great sports writers have long understood that the science and strategy of baseball makes it a natural facilitator of Hunter x Hunter-reminiscent chess matches, wherein the efficacy of certain training regimens or strategic gambits can be made brutally apparent through close attention to the ebb and flow of conflict. I’m eager to see how our boys’ training pays off, so let’s get right to the action!
Episode 13
“Dazzling flashbacks full of smiling faces.” The singer of this OP seems to treat these experiences in much the same way I do – as vivid reflections of old summer memories, rather than an immediate, ongoing experience. It fits the material well; many stories about adolescence seem to lack any perspective beyond adolescence, making their stabs at interrogating character psychology too personally biased to really offer much insight (to say nothing of their simplistic framing of adult characters). In contrast, Big Windup! is clearly a story about adolescence being conveyed from a perspective that has struggled through high school and lived to tell the tale, reflecting back with fondness on the ultimately fleeting struggles of youth
This is of a piece with how I often say stories for actual children are frequently a bit more mature in their outlook than stories for adolescents. Your first brush with self-consciousness generally carries with it a certain myopia of perspective, a defensive need to believe that you’ve “figured it all out” at thirteen or fourteen years old. Children are less hung up on the primacy of their experience, so you can actually speak with them more frankly than a nervous, perpetually postering teenager, and art aimed at them can be similarly more honest. This is why, say, Precure has significantly better writing than most light novel adaptations
“It feels like it’ll last forever, but it’s all over in one summer.” I’ve certainly got a few choice adolescent summers that stick in my mind. Live passionately, you’re only young once!
Some nice fluid animation as we cut in, with team manager Chiyo making a dramatic show of having been nearly bested in her quest to scout information on Tosei’s batting order and strategies
“I’m sorry, but I could only separate the strike zone into four sections.” Her notes are incredible. It seems our manager possesses a serious talent of her own, being able to accurately observe and record every aspect of their opponents’ play. An almost necessary proficiency for Big Windup!, which is so generally concerned with overcoming pure athletic ability through preparation and countermeasures
With team rosters largely set, and games proceeding according to such regimented sequences of back and forth, baseball really is a sport that you can plot out play by play beforehand, developing individual counters to each predicted movement of the board
Hanai and Abe are immediately pulled aside by Momoe for analysis
Yeah, this is a very fluid episode! Mihashi’s awkward bird faces are even more lively than usual
Mihashi is eager to show off how balanced his pitching stance has become by pitching from atop a thin wooden block. Excellent frog faces to accompany his bird faces as he gloats about this victory
“The number one on your back’s fading. That’s why you feel unsure.” They’re good kids
“Ah… I feel better somehow.” A silly gag that nonetheless embodies this show’s general philosophy: victory is in large part a reflection of psychology, and psychology can be gamed
Wonderful cut of Mihashi throwing up a ball and then being forced to catch it behind his back as Tajima grabs him. Such an expressive episode!
Later on, Hanai’s mother calls Mihashi’s house, and the two moms enjoy a long conversation about everything
Such careful attention to Mihashi’s hair and eyes through these sequences! I appreciate the cohesive fluidity of his face – his cheekbones and chin always lean into the distortion of his eyes’ shapes, making him look much like a pliable puddle of a person
This conversation between the moms exemplifies what I was discussing at the beginning – stories written from a more mature perspective can actually include parents as active, multifaceted characters, as opposed to the constant “my parents are overseas” or whatnot you get from stories still trapped within adolescence, at a time when the idea of your parents as flawed but experienced human beings is intolerable
A brief gawk reveals Mihashi inherited his bird face from his mom
“I have to charge the camcorder.” Mihashi’s mom also knows well that these moments are fleeting, and thus must be recorded while you can
More unusually fluid character acting as Chiyo meets up with a friend at the stadium. Their discussion of preparations subtly amplifies the tension of the moment, as the show intentionally draws out the reveal of our battle-ready team
Feels like they’re almost flexing this episode’s animator crew as Chiyo’s friend squashes and stretches her face
Aya Kanou was both animation director and did key animation on this episode, so presumably she’s largely responsible for all this lovely character acting? Chie Yokomori also did both key animation and in-between checks, alongside working on the similarly stylized OP for Carnival Phantasm. Big Windup!’s sadly not too well-represented on the booru, so it’s tough to get more specific references
Sweat glistens on the cheek of the game announcer. The summer heat is inescapable
“I wonder why I’m not scared even though we’ll face a team that’s way better than us. Is this the outcome of that mental training?” In part, yes. But anxiety in a situation like this often also stems from a root source of thinking “I wish I had done more to prepare,” and these boys have done everything they could do. There is no sense of regret regarding their preparation, and thus no spark for a resultant fire of anxiety
More delightful character acting as Mihashi freaks out again, certain his number one has disappeared from the back of his jersey
Mizushima’s certainly applying his resources smartly. Much of Big Windup!’s drama is intellectual rather than physical, meaning it doesn’t necessarily require luscious animation. But for this episode, the tactile experience of facing this implacable foe is paramount, and thus character acting drawing us into the cast’s perspective is necessary
Charming cut to the moms with their cameras. I now see the purpose of that earlier phone call – to seed them as potential members of the commentary crew, making this cut feel natural
Hanai’s mom immediately embarrasses him by showing up right after the opening ceremony
Momoe towers over Hanai’s mom, who is dazzled by Momoe’s ability to command her son. “Please, work my son into the ground!”
Mihashi’s mom is as nervous around Momoe as her son. She also reveals that she wasn’t around during his middle school era, which certainly didn’t help his sense of isolation
The two moms announce their intent to create a parents’ association for the team, to help defray food costs and other expenses. Not only is this team bolstering the players’ happiness and confidence, it’s even improving their relationship with their parents, giving them a point of mutual passion and support
Hamada arrives at their practice later, with two potential cheer squad members in tow
Hamada apparently invited two hundred goddamn spectators to their game
Izumi and Hamada were players on the same middle school team, making another link between Hamada and the main crew, and also giving Izumi a chance to exhibit more of his lackadaisical, kinda rude personality in the context of someone he’s fully comfortable with
Apparently Hamada pitched so much as a kid he actually damaged his arm even before high school, a painful reflection of just how taxing baseball can be, and how important it is to respect your body’s health. Nonetheless, it seems like the condition isn’t necessarily permanent, so there’s a chance he might actually join the team at some point. Regardless, his prior connections with both Izumi and Mihashi make him a useful dramatic irritant, helpful for revealing the history and personalities of our players
Considering how much work Hamada is doing for them, Hanae steps up to his responsibility as team captain, and offers a formal thanks to Hamada for his support
Hamada’s new recruits briefly allude to the “real reason” he was held back
We at last return to our main pair near the end of practice, with Abe scolding Mihashi for his failure to memorize the opposing batters’ preferences. Abe is determined to work with Mihashi, but he still has great difficulty accepting he must work with the tools he has, rather than the perfect instruments he’d prefer
“Being trusted makes me happy, but it’s a big responsibility.” Nonetheless, after snapping, his more generous analytical mind is able to positively contextualize Mihashi’s faith in his signals
“Why can’t you memorize even that much!?” He still has trouble entirely relinquishing his own proficiencies in order to empathize with others, though. A very adolescent instinct, to consider variations from his own perspective as other people being “defective”
With that, the morning of their first game arrives!
And Done
Thus our boys bravely set forth into the grand arena, ready to face off with the most celebrated team in the league. Their weapons for this challenge are diverse and numerous, from Mihashi’s extraordinary control and Abe’s strategies to Hanae’s steady leadership and Tajima’s ace batting. Additionally, they are further bolstered by the gifts of their allies, including Shiga’s mental conditioning, Momoe’s ruthless practice schedule, and Hamada’s army of fans. Will all these tools be enough to overcome their opponents’ athleticism and experience? All I know is that I’m eager to see these long weeks of practice put into thrilling action. Onward to the first round!
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Source: Big Windup! – Episode 13